


The Bereft Devil of The High Seas

by Left_In_The_Wreckage



Series: The Bereft Siren [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Captain Bill Cipher, M/M, Pirate Bill Cipher, Siren! AU, no specific time period established (yet) but it's not modern
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2018-10-20 16:24:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10666404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Left_In_The_Wreckage/pseuds/Left_In_The_Wreckage
Summary: One that longs for home and another who aims to escape it.Their goals couldn't lead them farther apart, in reality, it is quite the opposite, it draws them together.Bill is a proud pirate of the seas who hides his dealings well and covers his tracks as a low-class merchant vessel, of course, this couldn't be farther from the truth. He's usually very careful about the actions he takes in regards to "business", but when a familiar looking face catches his eye in the crowd and he jumps at he opportunity to take advantage of this poor soul's ignorance? He finds himself with a lot more than he bargained for.





	1. Introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Set in the past of this story)
> 
> Bill decides to pay his prisoner a visit

A sliver of light trails lazily from the top of the stairs, followed by a slim figure’s shadow. The click of his heels echoed about the staircase and followed him as he delved further below the deck and into the darkness of the ship’s dungeon. He was made up in a burnished gold and wine red coat, and boots of worn, but fine leather that served him well over the years. He squints his eyes in the pale light, out of the habit more than any need for them to adjust to the lighting, or lack thereof. He proceeded to remove the eyepatch, and pocketed it as he reached the crude iron bars he’d been visiting often, would be visiting more often if this continued. With all the ceremony of a king readying the death penalty of a petty thief, smug and knowing that his prey would not escape him, that it was already caught. 

He took his time before facing the dank cell’s permanent resident. It’s only resident. He’d never seen the reason in keeping prisoners, and while he could see the appeal now, he still itched to be rid of the rat in his midst. The man’s betrayal was still fresh in his mind, and very nearly blinded him to reason. It wasn’t as if he hadn't expected as much, that wasn’t the issue. The problem that had his blood boiling with rage was this pitiful excuse for a landlubber actually came close to succeeding… The problem was he’d tried so late in their partnership, when he hadn't expected it. Too late and too soon, Cipher had unwittingly begun to actually trust again. He’d told the man things only he himself knew, revealed his secrets, but the man was careful and clever, more so than he realized. The man had an insatiable thirst for knowledge, one he’d never thought would be turned against himself. The man had gleaned what he could and when he stumbled on something particularly unsettling? Just like that, Bill was betrayed before he could bat an eye.

That just wouldn't do.

Unfortunately, he’d have been dead now if Bill didn’t still need him. Alive. The smug bastard knew it too! It was evident as it shone in his eyes. The traitor wasn't ever one to brag or boast, and though he was a talker, he said nothing now. He remained tight lipped, his expression souring the longer he endured the poor conditions of the prisoner hold. He must have realized the captain wouldn’t hesitate to slit his throat if he gave him any reason to. He may not be dead yet, but if he goaded Cipher? It would not be a pretty nor a swift end. Not after what he had done. Not after making a fool of him. Not after the captain had been fool enough to actually trust the dishonorable charlatan.

The information he had would not be easy to come across again, but not impossible. Cipher knew that, even as his rage boiled and his temper flared in impatience, the creases in his brow evident as those made in his gloved fists as his shaking hands betrayed his calm facade. His calm demeanor crumbled, failing to convince the other, even in the darkness.

He could see it in the man’s eyes and slightly less annoyed expression. The was what had caught Cipher’s eye when he asked the man to join his crew. He could still remember the lad standing there, his expression reserved and bored. Bill saw behind the awkwardness he’d displayed as well, he always knew how to read people. It was a shame then, that things had turned out as they did. He looked at his first mate now with only contempt, even as his mind wandered to all they had accomplished, all he could see was red and the betrayal being replayed in his mind time and time again until his head swam with barely contained rage. 

Bill had already scoured the seven seas a dozen times over, he’d hoped the man, this Pines, would be the lead he needed. When really, he never should have let the weasel board. Knowing what he did now about the Pines man, he’d sooner’ve shot him down and dead on the dock on the flagstones inland of where he found him, than ask again what he was doing stranded in that sleepy town when he clearly didn't belong.

Oh, how Cipher had grown to despise the recruit and come to regret his offer, his trust, his friendship towards this swine. For him to turn around and betray it all, and for what? Morals? To return to that sad sack family he left at the docks that day at port?

It was downright shameful.

It was disgusting was what it was. And it was what lead them to these drastic circumstances, chaining one to the wall, while the other was left struggling to maintain something akin to order back to his mutinous crew. Not to mention leaving Bill to force his now sworn enemy to keep living in order to glean the information he desperately sought. Not that he’d let anyone learn just how much he longed for it. For home. 

It didn’t look like he was going to get more than a curt shake of the head and a half- mad chuckle out of 'em though. It was a shame, he thought, then, that this man was the closest he’d gotten. Perhaps the closest he would ever get to the answer. He would be dumping his corpse into the water at dawn tomorrow morning, he decided. Looking at him now, with his matted, greying hair and disheveled state, Bill had had enough. He couldn’t look at the man anymore. 

He was tired of the false hope he posed and there was no victory in watching your enemy die madder with every sunset, still as proud as the day they crossed you. So he left. His heeled boots finding their way back to the walkway from whence he descended from. With every step he drew closer to the source of light. He supposed it would be the first glimpse of freedom, the fate that was in store for him, that the man had known since he'd been left to deteriorate and sit with his own mind.

“It’s funny. Your wish at least, is coming true Sixer.” The captain said over his shoulder, looking back at the pitiful remains of a prideful man. “You’ll be out of here by tomorrow.” 

“One way or another.” He muttered almost inaudibly, replacing his eyepatch as it had been before he entered the god forsaken space. The heavy wooden door was closed none too subtlety, its hinges protesting their abuse. But Cipher didn’t care. As far as he was concerned, tomorrow would be the last day in the existence of that blight upon his ship and it couldn’t have come soon enough if it had been yesterday.


	2. Chapter 1: It Was Just A Scratch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ship Raiding! A man's throat gets slit, but it's implied more than actually described.

 

The easier task of all this was changing course for their new heading, Bill knew that. He still had to convince someone dumb enough to buy his stolen merchandise without making too much of a scene. He really shouldn’t have attacked that silk merchant’s ship, but with all the military guns surrounding it they were outright  _ goading _ him! Now, ordinarily he’d think twice about it and acknowledge that it wasn’t worth his time,  but t he sea was energetic today, bubbling a storm and crashing against the ship every chance she got. She also attempted many times to get the _ Mindscape _ to change her course on multiple occasions. It was nerve wracking. So when he saw the opportunity to raid a good number of ships while the water was calm and clear? Why wouldn’t he was a better question! 

Besides, he needed to blow off steam, and that was a sure-fire way to do it. The way he'd done so for years. Steal from the wealthy, ransack and sink a few ships. And then there was the thrill of holding another man at sword point, knowing he's going to die.

 Cipher’s fine sparrow-tailed coat flew behind him as he danced a dangerous duet or two with discourteous and clumsy strangers, if they only knew they fought a man that shouldn’t exist at all. Bill toyed with them as he always would, no one ever truly matching up to his stratagem and effortless grace with a blade. It was interesting, almost entertaining to watch men dance around him like they stood a chance, when they all so prettily end the same way, burly and bumbling fools all, impaled and dumped into the waiting, clamouring sea below them.

  Cries and the clashing of brandished metal, grunts of pain and struggle filled his ears like song and he glided across the deck to find the captain of the little vessel, the last one standing, left all alone without the head of the fleet to give them directions. It made him smirk. They’d cleverly hidden a fraction of the goods on the military vessels, suspecting that any potential threats would indeed board their ship, take notice, and stall their plans of sinking the ships long enough for their men to gain an advantage. It certainly wasn't a method Cipher was familiar with, it was actually rather stupid, though, he supposed, they’d rather the silks and spices sink and go to waste then fall into the hands of criminal minds like himself. _Cute,_ Bill thought, _still not a proper challenge though,_ as he stalked the distance of the floor boards and to the man at the helm, fending off death blow after death blow and dodging every one. Bill stood back a moment to watch and determine which of his men he was seeing. 

The sickly pallor and short stature was instantly recognizable as Keyhole. Cipher’s visible eye upturned in delight and appraisal as the younger man held his own against his opponent. The man had three heads on him, and yet… Bill smirked, he’d have to have Keyhole join the fighting more often. When the fight neared its conclusion, with the captain of the ship on his knees and with neither sword nor dagger left at his side, Bill strode forward. Keyhole’s glance was questioning at first, but a warning gaze from Bill made him snap into attention, pulling the defeated man further to his knees, pulling his head back and placing a blade there without so much as batting an eye or sparing so much as a second, before bowing his own head, eyes downcast, respect evident even without his expression displayed before the captain. 

Bill took a drew forward, drawing out his every step that brought him before the once proud commander, and enjoying the way the man flinched and tried to hide the fact. Bill almost pitied him. 

 Bill chuckled as he crouched down to the man’s level, reveling in the fear that rolled off the man in waves. The man still wouldn’t meet his eyes, however, but a look to Keyhole and the trivial offense was remedied with a slight added pressure to a wounded shoulder. “I won’t ask for your name, seeing as it will cease to matter in a moment… and I don't very well care about your last words either, but I do want one thing. I want you to know who brought down your fleet. I want you to know the reason you failed in person. Do you know who I am?” Keyhole slackened the knife just enough to allow the man to speak unhindered, but made no move otherwise, and at first the man didn’t either, his breaths coming fast and thick, whether it was from his overexertion or knowing they would be his last, was anyone’s guess. 

 When he did speak, Bill was not disappointed. “Y-you’re B-Bill Cipher-r, but- but wh-why? A small scale merchant ship… not worth… not worth attention.”

 Bill ignored the man’s question, it didn't matter in the long run, after all and his was just about over. “Good. So you have heard of me. But I want to share a little secret of mine, a last farewell if you will. Or maybe I admire your gumption after seeing the extent your men would go to preserve your merchant’s goods… It means all the same to me.”

 “W- what secret? That you’re the biggest bilge rat on the seven sea? I’m afraid word gets ou-” The return of the knife cut him off, but not before his words got to Cipher. The commander wanted to feel smug at the expression the blonde man wore, but in truth, it terrified the man more than anything. 

 “Sea rats? Well, these scourges of the sea have done in and outwitted your crew just about. I’d say I’m feeling rather smug myself, however, I don’t see what you find so awfully funny about it.” As the man's’ face fell, Bill’s only brightened as he asked how it felt to see the reality of a legend stand upon his deck, a haunting nightmare sailors told stories of, a mythical character of so many tales before his death. Bill asked him how it felt that his face would be the last thing he saw, a sailor’s tale come to life. The man's eyes widened and he grimaced as the knife was shifted ever so slightly as he tried not to gasp or otherwise jostle the instrument of his inevitable end.

 What the blonde didn’t expect, was for the man to speak, ignoring how the blade broke his skin. “You’ll never get away with this, your devil deeds will come back to haunt you, I swear it!”  Bill zeroed in on the trickle of blood, a few drops contrasting against the pale, pampered flesh.

“Oh?” Bill asked, quirking his brow, feigning interest, when really, he was bored. He’d heard this so many times before. “Then I see no reason why I should fight that image of myself, hmm?” Bill smirked, eyes flashing gold and cerulean blue brighter than any natural shade of the color. He nodded his acknowledgement to Keyhole, who, understanding the subtle gesture, finished the job as Bill descended the stairs. The dull thud of a body hitting the floor boards greeted his ears as he reached the bottom. It gave him pause, but only for a moment’s worth, as he shook himself out of his reverie. He’d thought a ship raid would clear his mind, but this too had failed him, he was still far too tense. The air was uncharacteristically uniform and the sky was a billowing sheet of grey now, making him scowl and purse his lips in distaste. His contemplations only serving to cause him even greater frustration. 

 But then- just before he could reach the steering wheel of his own ship, it was already turning fiercely to the Atlantic. The ocean was at it again. He supposed it was time to listen to her, he’d head for the new lands, but he wasn’t about to follow her lead there. This was _his_ ship and that wasn't about to change. Not for a moment.

 Following the direction of the current evidently lead him to a familiar town, one he hadn’t seen in years, and had hoped never to see again. His displeasure must have shown, as all of the crew was leaving him be and busying themselves with work. Or maybe they just learned something- _and the big one just dropped precious cargo_ … _So that was a no._

 The town really hadn’t changed much. . .

The cobblestone streets of the small port town were a familiar, if unwanted sight. The gulls sounded in the background, loud and obnoxious as the locals shuffle about, having long grown accustomed to the constant screeching and distant cries of the fowls. The brackish salt air here combatted with the earthy scent of ancient forest pines and wood dust and sap no matter the season, and though Bill found a comfort in it, he couldn’t manage to relax. His muscles were taut and his stance tense with anticipation. It had been years since he was last here, and he hoped never to see the blighted stretch of land again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys! I added this before, but I felt it was too short and realized the title I had it for was the one I was going to add instead... stuff happened, but here it is again, and I'm working on the next one. It'd be done if I felt it made a lick of sense how the events play out.... I have Dipper help Bill navigate through the marketplace before or after a deal gone sour, and I can't get it quite right. So I know what I'm doing for the next two chapter, I'm trying to see how to approach them without something feeling off.


	3. Port Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter to be named later. Bill meets PT. Pretty much uneventful, but I felt it was necessary. Bill flirts a bit, but it's not really acknowledged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! This was out a bit late, but it's out now and thank everything it's out! What I had for it was unmanageable and it had to be rewritten. More than once. 
> 
> If you had your eyes peeled for it, I did add this earlier and then immediately deleted it... sorry! I had to fix a couple of things I didn't notice until after it was submitted. Don't you hate when that happens?! Anywho, thank you all so much for sticking around! THe second chapter is already in the works, so continue practicing patience, and I'll have it out before you know it! (We get to see what Dipper is up to in the next one! Plus more with his interaction with Bill and his opinion of this strange individual. And... where's Stan?

 

_ The cobblestone streets of the small port town were a familiar, if unwanted sight. The gulls sounded in the background, loud and obnoxious as the locals shuffle about, having long grown accustomed to the constant screeching and distant cries of the fowls. The brackish salt air here combatted with the earthy scent of ancient forest pines and wood dust and sap no matter the season, and though Bill found a comfort in it, he couldn’t manage to relax. His muscles were taut and his stance tense with anticipation. It had been years since he was last here. He had hoped never to see the blighted stretch of land again.  _

………………………………………………….

 

Gravity Falls was an anomaly in and of  itself, a town you only found if you were lucky and attentive enough to notice the subtle hints of something greater that lay beyond the looming horizon.

Given his history with its residents, whether they remembered him or not, he couldn't appreciate much of it like he used to. It was just another town, another blight in his life, a spec jutting out from the ocean, a rocky little strip of land rejected by the blue paradise that only had so long before it was reclaimed. Bill was only here because he needed to sell his merchandise for a decent price without drawing too much attention to what he was actually selling. Or to himself.

Where better than a place isolated for the rest of the world? He chose to ignore the ocean’s hand in the decision, he could have fought the currents off if he had a good enough reason to.

What he didn’t account for the  boar of a man that questioned his authenticity. What had his name been?  _ Farmer hat ...Smiley, Buddy? _ \- he was trying to cheat him out of his profit…. Not that the goods were really his to begin with, but he went through a lot of trouble to get them, managing to scratch his ship in the process of stealing the precious cargo of that merchant ship. 

Said stall owner dragged their interaction out further than the pirate would have liked. “And you say this is genuine silk? What do you take me for, another ignorant salesman?” It had become irksome to keep from cutting the man short another year of his life and storming off by that point in their negotiations.

“I never claimed as such.” Bill smirked,  _ though you’re fool to test my patience thus far, so who knows? _ , “however, I am not bluffing. A deal I had in another port didn’t fall through what with everyone wealthy relying on shipments for all their well, wealth, and the increase in piracy these past few years being what it is…” Bill drawled on, but the man didn’t seem to buy much of what he was claiming.  _ Talk about a hard bargain. _ He’d felt like he was talking to a brick wall. It was time to switch tactics. “Truth be told, I have a ship full of goods I need sold or I can’t pay my crew their due and the fruits and spices will spoil if given enough time and the worst of conditions. So… will you buy my goods or not, because there are plenty of other shops down at the docks that will.”

Narrowing his eyes, the salesman, Bud contemplated the risks of trusting this man’s word. He  _ could _ take his word for it seeing as he had no real experience with fine cloths, and find out later that he’d been cheated when his son returned from his trip… or, or he could send him to that Stan’s place and have  _ him _ buy the ship load of goods to figure that out for himself, further running his business into the ground. On second thought, he really did like that second option. It was a gamble, but even if these were legitimate products, there weren’t many who would buy them off of the con-man. Problem solved.

“Uh, er… well, that is to say I can’t buy these from you at the price you want, but I do know someone who will if you can convince him!” Bud Smiled as apologetically as he could to cover the real reason he had for the expression. 

Bill took in the man’s demeanor before responding, the man obviously had some ulterior motive if he were pointing him to his competition, but there didn’t seem to be any ground to break here. So, albeit hesitantly, he took the bait. “Oh? Then where can I find him?” 

This would either be a good lead that got him out of this town before nightfall, or this man was setting someone up. If it was the latter, he would have to spare a few words with this informant.

For the man’s sake and his own thin stream of patience, he’d hoped he wouldn't disappoint.

He’d been contemplating cutting his losses and escaping the clutches of this port while he still held a shred of his sanity even as he followed the directions he’d been given by the broad man. He hadn’t accounted for the change in business ownership of the once popular trading booth he frequented before that salesman took over.

Bill shook his head, no point dwelling on the past as he knew it. It was obvious it wouldn't serve him as well as he’d thought.

He was fortunate enough to get anything from the man after he threatened to alert the authorities about the shady goods. Honestly, the man was a bigger fraud than himself! It was a good thing Bill wasn’t an honest tradesman or he would have been swindled out of every spare penny he had trying to sell his anything here. As it was, the man had seen right through him, and yet… He’d sent him off, no deal made and nothing for him to gain. Bill could only thank his experience and sheer common sense for knowing better than to sell everything in one place unless he knew he had a buyer there. Seeing as this was a rather unscheduled stop, he had no intentions of drawing  _ more _ attention to himself by bringing in goods that were better sold anywhere else. Gravity Falls may not bat an eye at much, but attempting to sell a full cargo hold’s worth of goods? That was asking for trouble anywhere, and he’d had enough of that for the moment… besides, he preferred the trouble found out at sea. Land wasn’t much of a fighting ground for him.

Even the first few moments he’d spent off his ship were unpleasantly spent here. Due to some decent shower having passed before his arrival, puddles were scattered across the makeshift road. He’d lost count of exactly how many he’d missed and drenched his boots in, grimacing as he went. Much as he loved the water, he did not enjoy the way it sloshed in his footwear, especially coupled with the damage it could potentially cause. He shouldn’t have switched them out, the pair he’d worn before would have been better suited for this. 

That is to say, was already in foul spirits. It made sense why there were so little ships coming in from … anywhere really, to visit this place, it looked like it hadn’t seen trade in a good while. He saw the way people eyed his ship and his goods with insatiable curiosity. It had definitely lost a lot of business over the years, to become the sleepy town it was now, not that it had ever been exceedingly successful… but at the time, how long had it been?  _ Eight years, ten years? Thirty?  _  It seemed like it was becoming a boomtown of sorts, with people flocking in an albeit slow trickle, but there was that ambiance of greatness, potential, that Bill certainly missed about it, if nothing else.

Besides the shop run by that board of a man, only a few merchants’ shops were open, very few of which he remembered from the last time he’d been in port. He wondered if Lazy Susan’s Tavern was still open for business or not before he shook the thought off or the time being. He and his men were only there to sell their stolen goods, he’d made that clear as he knocked the wind out of one of his  _ hired _ hands with the blunt end of his knife for his incompetence. It was his ship and his rules. If he didn’t like it, he could leave. As it was, Bill  _ loathed _ hired hands, he preferred his crew loyal to the death, not to the wealthiest man's purse strings. He swore as soon as he found replacements for the louts and he had no further use for them, they would be gone, but finding good, much less decent deck hands, was not so easily done. There was also the matter of experience. Everyone wanted to go out to sea, but none of them ever seemed ready for all of what that entailed, couldn't even make it as cabin boys. It was shameful.

He let these thoughts occupy his mind to escape the depressing scenery, but it had become clear to him halfway through that there would be no such avoidance. The dock was falling apart in places from lack of proper care, most likely due to lack of use, and shop roofs were caving in her and there. The air smelled faintly of mildew the farther in he traveled through the scant buildings and he physically restrained himself from turning back just yet. He reminded himself of the goods he had to sell inconspicuously, and if his memory served correctly still, this was the place to do so. His analytical gaze was only met with discouraging sight to discouraging sight. This… couldn’t be the same Gravity Falls he was familiar with, could it? He was all too familiar with the concept that time was none too kind to the sleepy-port towns in other areas, but this place had been thriving when last he’d laid eyes on it. Just what had happened?

It looked like a storm had run through it, which, come to think of it, would explain a good number of the damages he’d witnessed. Besides a few new stores and new housing, it appeared to be almost as he’d left it. It was… eery, if not outright concerning.

The quaint little shop that Bud fellow sent him to was on the outskirts of the town, the closest to the forest as he’s seen anyone dare live. Besides one man… he wondered if that building was still around somewhere. Doubtful, besides, he’d never seen it for himself, the chances of him recognizing it were impossible.

The shack seemed untouched by the storm that hit the town, though the man told him it must have been ill-maintained because of the owner's reputation, it was in fact, the opposite. As well-kept as a shack in the middle of nowhere could be. Noticing no other such places, only worn out paths of grass leading further into the woodlands, Bill assumed this had to be the tradeshop he was looking for.

An annoying little contraption was attached to the door forced him to push his way in before the door slammed back into place.  _ Strange way to greet customers, whatever happened to that bell over the door? _ Adjusting to his crowded surroundings, Bill found there was an interesting assortment of oddities he’d seen only a few times in his life and by the time he approached the counter he knew a return trip to this shack was in order. It was a nice collection, he’d seen better, but none of them had been owned by humans. When he reached the counter, he found himself shocked further by the stranger behind it. Color him surprised that a man so young would run such an establishment, of course, behind the initial surprise grew a curious glint in his eyes.

Now, now he was intrigued. The young thing’s attention was occupied with the books that surrounded him in a semicircle, notes being drawn up carefully with his right hand as the left turned pages and kept the oil lamp going enough to permit his distraction. He still hadn’t noticed him. Bill was tempted to wait until he did notice, but he was running on a bit of a tight schedule and if he had any desire to leave the town before nightfall, that wouldn't be the way to go about it. Amused, though he was.

He cleared his throat again and wrapped his gloved knuckles on the desk in front of the man and waited silently as the other shook off his clouded mind. “Oh, uh…How- Wait,” he looked between the blonde before him and the front entrance before taking a step back, “Did you just break in?” A delightful mix of confusion and wariness stood out in his dark eyes. 

_ Well, if this isn’t adorable _ … Though, Bill was mildly insulted to be mistaken for the common thief, he hadn't even stolen anything yet! Rolling his eyes, the pirate gestured to the window where a sign hung aloft and clearly welcoming potential customers. “Your sign says you’re open, therefore, I didn’t break in. I’m not here to steal anything… well, except for your attention.”

The brunette flushed a little, before mumbling something about a  _ mabel, _ but stood taller and nodded as he seated himself again, shutting his journals and clearing the space off. A glance at the papers revealed a familiar sight of red and burnished gold. But it couldn't be, could it? He let his eyes shift back to the man's face while the other failed to notice what he’d caught sight of. If he even knew himself what it was, but if his suspicions were right...

“I suppose I can’t drive you off, so… was there something you wanted or are you here just to look around because if that’s the case, you’ll have to return later for my Grunkle’s tours around the area. It shouldn't be long before he gets back-”

Bill cut him off with a wave of his hand, “I’m here to sell, if you’re interested, unless your… _Grunkle_ , was it? Runs this shop and deals out its business transactions.” It would make sense, in fact, this kid having an elder running the shop made more sense than if he’d gathered these materials himself. Studying the man a bit further, he found he liked what he saw. His auburn hair was a bit unkempt, and he clicked his tongue at this, tisking the lack of care, but his eyes were determined and intelligent. Though eyes rarely lied, Bill prefered seeing things play out for himself, and the young man certainly held himself with care and precision even as he’d leant over the accounts and research that had once laid spilled across the… Bill noted it was a  _ pine _ counter. It was more common here than the oak the rest of the place was built from. He wondered at that choice when he noticed the other speaking to him. “Not to be rude, but I didn’t quite catch that… nor, do I recall ever being given your name, unless of course, you’d prefer a nickname…”

“ _ No _ , I have had enough of nicknames from my sister, mister…?”

Bill only stared at his hand, raising his brow before the brunette got the message, “Oh, right. Dipper Pines at your service, mister…?”

A genuine smile lifted at the corners of his lips as he accepted the proffered hand. “Cipher, but you can feel free to call me what you please.”  
  
  



	4. A whisper of silk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is Dip's POV here, still shaking Bill's hand and addressing his flirting. Also a mention of Grunkle Stan.
> 
> A/N: This one is a bit short... but I spent so much time working on it and rewriting and etc... that I can't just leave it out. I also like it for what it's worth.

Dipper realized that research was probably best executed when one was burning the midnight oil. As it was, he’d never even heard the door opening or the racket his contraption must have made when the intruder well,  _ intruded _ where he really wasn’t wanted. The brunette wasn’t sure what to think when the shop’s surprise visitor met him at the desk, but he supposed he could have said something more intelligent than what he had chosen. It was a wonder he could push his notes aside long enough to articulate any response though, he was sure he was on the verge of a breakthrough! He just had to calibrate a few more algorithms, or so he hoped. That may just have been his appalling shortage of optimism rearing its less cruel mug to be inspected and disappoint him later. 

Dipper eyed the man w some level of skepticism. He didn’t exactly look like any tradesman he’d ever seen while working with his Grunkle in this run down shop. Granted Stan wasn’t familiar with the most honest or  _ legal  _ of dealings. He supposed he could bite, if only to find a means to stall the man before his Grunkle returned from whatever business kept him at the moment. There was only so many functions of the business he was left to. What his Great Uncle did on the sly and in his own time was not for him to attend to and out of common sense and a fondness for his own head, he never stuck his neck out that far for the old man. It was better he knew as little as possible when it came to those dealings.

He preferred to keep it that way.

And having been introduced to a number of individuals through his Grunkle’s business, knew how to read people. It was a useful skill considering how many days the shack had seen raidings, robberies, skeptics and well, other conmen. Both those smarter and those trying to outwit the man of mystery himself. He didn’t get any of that from this walk-in. In fact, he wasn’t sure what he was picking up on from the stranger, only that it was in fact radiating from him like a sun, almost like it was pouring off the man in waves.  _ That was new. _

His handshake was firm and the soft brush of cloth- what he  _ knew _ couldn’t possibly be silk- instead of a calloused hand like he’d expected brought his attention to his gloved hands. They slipped from his w/ the whisper associated with the luxury fabric and snapped his attention back to the wearer.

Something… something didn't add up here. A light rose behind the boy’s eyes, a determination to either figure this stranger out. He really couldn’t kick him out now, his curiosity would never be satisfied.

This man was too wealthy and took too good care of himself to be another mediocre merchant. He still had all of his teeth for one thing and was it him or did they seem just a little too sharp?  

But that didn’t tell him what he was really doing here or what Dipper was dealing with…

Or how he realized, how he stumbled upon the little oddity shop. Luck?  _ Doubtful.  _ No one found this place on luck alone.

And had he been trying to flirt?  Dipper couldn’t very well  _ ask _ if that was his intention. He flushed when an inner voice that sounded much like his twin prompted finding it out himself by reciprocating. 

Unable to think of anything else to say and the uncertainty that was eating at him, he gave it a shot, smiling nervously, “Cipher? Does that make you a code to uncover?” It came out smoother than he’d thought himself capable of and he mentally winced both at that and the pitiful choice in pick up lines. Sometimes he felt like such an idiot. Much to his surprise as he hadn’t meant to sound  _ that _ interested, the taller man’s eyes fell at half mast as he leaned over the counter. “Eyes can be deceiving…. Why not find that out for yourself?”

“U-um... “ Dipper, making sure the counter was still separating them tried to stand his ground. Dipper flushed, stuttering.  _ Yep, He was definitely flirting _ , fighting the urge to step back and possibly offend this stranger, Dip continued to find his words. _ That… was definitely flirting. _

As if Bill read his discomfort, he moved back to where he’d been before, giving the other room to breathe as he sent him a wordless thanks through his eyes. Bill seemed to think little of it, but proceeded to mind his space and for that he was grateful. His look was questioning though, piercing and intent.

His face burned and he didn’t know whether or not he liked it. Nobody flirted with Mabel’s odd, gangly brother. He…. didn’t exactly mind it if he was being honest. He wasn't a fool though, he knew how long ships stayed in port normally, even if it wasn’t ever in Gravity Falls. This man wouldn't be there for the better part of a week. He bit his lip, thinking of how to respond that would make up for his shock. He always seemed to be embarrassing himself. In the end, he thought it would be better to reply in kind, only with less of an innuendo.

“Perhaps another time. I hardly know where to start deciphering you... “

“I can say the same to you,  _ Dipper _ , or should I just call you Ursa Majoris? It is your namesake is it not? A bit strange, but then, I find myself drawn to weirdness…”

Before Dipper can think of whether or not to take offense or ask what was mean, the man, Bill, seemed to backtrack, gesturing in the general area of the rest of the shack. “Like this place for instance artifacts and oddities you can’t find hardly anywhere else… I’ve found that strange is just another word for  _ unique _ … wouldn't you agree?”

Dipper restrained the urge to touch his/ put a hand to his temple/ forehead where his birthmark lay hidden at the other’s words… _ him? Unique? _ Or was he merely looking too far into this stranger’s words? He realized in the continued silence that he was waiting for his answer.

“O-Oh, I suppose...  I’ve never really fit in with normal… they tend to miss a lot that goes on around them- I-I mean…” he stopped when he realized he was probably saying too much and the guy would really find him strange! What would Stan think if he scared off a potential customer?

He noticed the gleam in the other’s eye and again was surprised by the man’s ability to convey so much in his piercing gaze, “You know what, I like you kid! And I’d like to continue to like you, so how about you tell the old geezer that runs this place that I have a deal for him so he can make the unbiased decision and when you’re not working, come find me at the dock, my ship is the only real beauty out there, and you’ll know it when you see it. What do you say?”

Dipper mulled it over a moment, it sounded reasonable and he wasn’t sure if it was in his favor to say no, so naturally he agreed to the man’s terms. If he wasn't mistaken… the man was trying to flirt with him… possibly was actually interested in him… but that couldn’t be a serious thing, could it?

He wasn’t left to dwell on it. Not long after the stranger left his Great Uncle returned in higher spirits than usual, crashing in through the door supplies piled in the crook of both arms as he hummed a tune that must have been from his younger days as a sailor. 


End file.
